Like Ambrosia
by ZoudiaxZoe
Summary: They desired, they knew it, felt it in their heart. They were so different that it was impossible to imagine them together. Both Gods are totally opposite; beings who, like water and oil can not mix, but they always tried to dilute themselves, melted and interact with each other, their differences forced them to need at each other. SLASH-ApolloxDionysius (Sunwine)


I'v already post this one -but in spanish-. Sincerely this is one of the writings that I most like. I wanted to translate this, because I thought I could dedicate this to my gf. And yes, this is to her. I ship this two Gods, because of a teacher of mine. His classes were always awesome, and he talk a lot about the greeks -I studied Politic Science for a while, before I got tired of my college-

**DISCLAIMER:** The sexy Apollo nor Dionisio, nor Olympus, nor wine, nor grapes, nor temples, nor togas ... NOTHING BELONGS TO ME!  
No God and/or mythological creature is mine, unfortunately.

**SPECIAL CREDITS:** To my teacher of _Modern Political Thought_ by touching the subject of the Greeks and of these two gods in class, and to speak with that intonation of voice about Apollo and Dionysus ... you made me the day!, Unconsciously you gave me the idea and I only wrote it on to paper ... I will never have enough words or courage to thank you; really, professor Ismael, You are the best! I learned more about politics with that example that made me rave for months than in the 4 semesters I studied at that university.

* * *

**Ambrosia.**

Apollo, to speak of him is needed to recall the sun, imagine a beautiful golden carriage drawn by fiery horses that helps Helios towards their way across the sky.

Speak of Apollo is remember the music in its purest form, the body representation of emotions and the pursuit of true love. Speak of this God is admire the beauty incarnate; that skin tanned, his thin face and masculine body adorned by lines that gave a fibrous form and appealing to the eye, with the only movement of his arms or his walk his muscles twitched in a delicious way.

His eyes were big, green and penetrating; eyes covered by a coarse layer of thin and thickens eyelashes that collide with each subtle blink, nose columbine and haughty profile were the clearest sign and representation of what he was, a God.  
The fine coppery blond curls fell wildly and moved deliciously to the beat of the wind.

Apollo is perfection, skilled in the arts, excellent athlete, a fighter exemplary; God of harmony and solidarity, but above all, and most importantly, Apollo is a man in love.

Dionysus, mention this name puts a smile on the faces of those who hear it, is known as a cheerful god, rosy-cheeked and with grapevine in hand. Talk about him is revoked to the parties of debauchery, drink, dance, theater acts and conceptions.  
Dionysus is known as the father of those children conceived during a male drunkenness, because he liked to possess their bodies.

The night is his most faithful companion, he could disinhibit to the neatest being on earth... and how he enjoyed that!, he offers happiness and momentary loss of conflicts, replaces the serious workplace for the most exceptional spree.

The Romans saw him as a real man creator of fine beverages, but his true appearance was totally androgynous, the gender did not reach to defined for his premature birth, and grew up surronded by women and dressed like one to save his life.

After Aphrodite, he is the lighter skinned, with blond hair as bright as the sun even when he's in the darkest place, no definite shape his hair falls on his shoulders when he loses the tie with which he usually holds it.  
His mischievous smile was a feasible sample of what he thought, and his eyes shine as blue as the same sky; his long, curly and clear eyelashes could be annoying on sunny days with intense brightness.

Dionysus is a God of action, freedom and debauchery, is a God who acts which consciousness and frees repressed feelings of anyone. He could be a revered God, father and not very well accepted in his own: He was what he wanted to be, and at that time, he was just a person smitten by Eros.

_His slim figure turned toward the exit of the temple and he could see his brother, the "pride" of his father, already taking Helios to his rest. He saw him encountering with his twin and share a greeting; that night, Artemis would rest in Lunar ebbed. And he, as the good "black sheep" he is, he would do what he does every night: Living his not mortal life and eternal night pleasure._

At first sight the two gods are totally opposite, beings that like oil and water can not mix, but they always tried to dilute themselves, melt and interact with each other, their differences made them needed each other.

They never understood, they were attracted each other, but there was always something that managed the way to not let flow the mutual magnetism. One of them.  
The day and night.  
Apollo lives in the day, was his strength and inspiration. Dionysus was a nocturnal being; life under the starry sky was his reason, the light hurt him and repressed his "cheerful personality."

When the Gods would gather, Dio always was the most isolated, while Apollo should sit at the right hand of his father, Zeus, and Artemis sinister of her sibling.

There was always something, and no matter the desire, need, illusion of being close; of being able to see each other's eyes for more than two seconds, calm the anxieties of touch, try on, drinking from each other to snatch the breath making it die in other's mouth. That something was there.

Apollo's chest burned, blazed and felt like he going to become something like his stepmother whenever a different woman came to the temple of the God of the wine with a child and showed him as his son. And his eyes filled with tears when the young God recognized them as happened with Alexander, whenever Dionysus spoke of the young emperor and that smile appeared on his face, Apollo's immortal heart fell in his chest after being brutally stabbed.

Dionysus felt happiness and the taste of the wine to see the treatment and the relationship of the twins, but really, felt envy for not being able to relate in that way to him or any of his brothers. He loved the Vine, but hated the laurels, those fortunate leaves to stay on that head, stroking that hair he could only dream of having in his fingers.

When them found their point of attachment, was in the theater; that time they met, in their eyes had disbelief and at same time shone so eagerly. They smiled and sat together. They shared the laughter and the tears, shared that reddish tinge on their cheeks.

The time get missed and both begged to Grandpa Chronos that it be retained freeze, and the thread of the play was lost, the story already did not care.  
But Apollo had to leave. And they both knew. Dio stood up, he also had to leave, but a hand, bigger and stronger than his blocked his move on. A smooth lips kissed his knuckles.

"You're so white, almost like North nymphs. Your skin is like the sea foam, I wonder if it will taste salty."

The younger did not answer, looked away and closed his eyelids, his blush and reluctant attempt to leave made Apollo to desist, who was dropping his hand slowly.  
That contact was electrifying, they felt such intensity as if they had been beaten by his father, but was pleasurable.

And the desire of the poles to approach grew.

The night not take in falling, and has time to be advanced and Dio was still tucked in his temple. His heart was beating so loudly with such intensity that the sound could be comparase to a bongo.

Finally sighed, and took one of his best fine linen robes; the light could show the figure of his adonisian body trough the linen. The whiteness of his legs could be confused with the same fabric that guards his body and the wild wind allowed the coolness before the heat of the Mediterranean. Do not put on sandals of any kind, Dionysus wanted to bury his toes in the sand and soaked his ankles with sea foam.  
Sea foam, he reminded Apollo and blushed, it was a compliment unusual but he liked. It made him feel full and completely happy.

"I suppose you will go to the sacrifice in the coast."

The deep and slightly husky voice came from his chair in the center of the main wing. Their eyes met, the green hiting the blue and both melted creating an environment that alluded to the sea to the air breathed differently at the time.

The older one straightened as full length he is and advanced to meet face to face with his brother, was he the one who cut eye contact beginning to examine his playboy brother, and almost like a sigh, a groan erupted from his stomach, through its throat, leaving by her rosy lips and dying in the other's ear.

"That was the main idea, and I lost most of the night."

"It is a sacrifice in your honor; do not need to always attend. As much as you want to," he gets closer ... more up to can feel his mist hitting his chest, his bent over Dio's shoulders and inhaling his fragrance _sweeter than wine_; he thought, his fingers skirted the linen as he finished the prayer in the younger's ear proceeded to lick it slightly.

The other shook and no longer knew for how many shades had spent his face, felt faint when his older brother embraced him with such force that he can feel Apollo's latent desire against his body.

He grabbed his hands on his broad back and sighed, dropped the exclamation of love that caused a shudder in his companion.

The strong hands of the Sun God run through the body of Dionysus up to his neck, set free the hair of the other God and his fingers mixed, folded, caressed the curls as golden as Helios, clutched both hands behind his head and pulled closer their faces. They watched their eyes, scanning his iris and felt with the looks, their breaths created a vapor enveloping, the breaths emanating a wish. Desire that was fulfilled instantly in which their lips met.

Kiss plaintiff, passionate, their lips looking for devour, their tongues seemed to dance but actually were battling, both muscles were wrapped fighting for control of the mouth of another.

It was not long when Apollo sparked the robes of his brother and this incited more to Apollo -when fell- to abandon their fight to taste his soft skin; pearls began to decorate the body giving a touch salty, such as his fantasy. He explored all the body over with his tongue and again it returned to Dio's parted and panting lips.

Does not allowed to recover and swallowed eagerly, he wanted to extract the soul. The flavor of Dionysus was so intoxicating, he tastes better than his best wines, but had the same addictive effect and made him lose control. It was so sweet that he thought replace ragweed by the breath of his brother God. He wanted to turn his brother into his eternal meal.

The time came when his aroused desire, since the moment he saw him changed, throbbed with an urgency even stronger.

The fact that they were in a holy place, that the face of the young who moaned and begged for clemency to his lips and hands were everywhere, like jars with -in Apollo's opinion,- the not so intoxicating drink and golden grapes on trays could only excite him more.

He played with the fruits of the smaller body, stroking the skin -now- lubricated with their sweat with vines, settled them strategically and took them with his mouth and devouring sensual.

Their seduction game lasted more than Aphrodite and Ares had been able to have at some point. Snatching the cloak still worn by Apollo in desperation.

They had always desired each other, in that moment and from that day the desire will grow, because they could not avoid it, was something implanted in them, in their being, their personalities, their looks. They wanted and needed, they feel attracted without being able to explain it, without understanding.  
Without understanding it they embraced as if the other were to disappear, they caressed as if they will never be able to see again and they would to register in their fingertip's memory forever, kissed and drank from the saliva of the other as if it were the last drop of ambrosia and wish to make it all theirs. Only theirs.

That way their bodies are bind, that way and hilarious necessity was how Dio's body was rammed; war had been unleashed! Both struggled to enjoy the pleasure and not letting to the pleasure enjoys of them.

The -carved and well trained, but slender and stylish- body rose and fell over the usurper's body sitting in the majestic throne of the sacred temple that did not belong to Apollo, but the legitimate owner now is all his and Apollo would kill for him, would create the most magnificent work, piece, writing ... would create everything for him!

He took his face pulling him and kissing him, and broke the kiss at feeling him tremble, he wanted to hear; he has to hear it!  
Apollo does not would allow that so monumental exclamation, delicious scream, exciting moan would die on his lips and get lost inside, No! He must hear it. And he heard it, loved it and seconded; the God of the Sun hugged Dio so tight wishing merge their bodies.

Now Dionysus belonged to him; scarlet drops accompanied by his own white essence covering the skin of both showed it.

If they focused, beyond their exhausted breaths, they could hear the music playing in the beach. The mortals were celebrating in honor of the God of wine, and both Gods were celebrating that finally they managed to get closer after calling by so long.

Apollo smiled, and kissed him.

"You are addictive," muttered.

"I am the God of wine and ecstasy." He answers in a tired whisper.

"Does not, you're MY ambrosia."

* * *

One Tuesday I had to exhibit on class with my team for _Modern Political Thought_, the Greeks is a subject that I love, and my team went on to a presentation on their establishment, tragedy, war, Olympic games and Odyssey and so on ...like the good fangirl I am, I monopolize Olympics, war and Oedipus.

Upon entering the theme of the tragedy, the teacher interrupted me and started talking and talking about them, and brought up to Apollo and Dionysus, gave us to professorship on the life of Dionysus and how he was so opposed to Apollo, but no one is without the other and shalala shalala, he wanted to explain us _the passive and wise nature_, that are _the polar extremes of political life_. Anyway, while, for some reason unknown to me... my mind began to fly and fly and fly, with the mention of both Gods, so much that when I realized my imou-chan saw me with a face that said "damn perverted "and when I realized I was smiling with that grin of perverted. No, there had been no problem If I WASN'T STANDING IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE CLASSROOM!


End file.
